Lips, Blood and Sex Crazed Freaks
by MagpieDreamer
Summary: Harpers POV: Harper contemplates Trance (and her lips) in med bay with... interesting results. HarperTrance. Come on, read it! You know you want to... can you hear it calling to you...? it's saying 'read me! review me' Achem. Yeah. Anyway. R&R!


**Lips, Blood and Sex Crazed Freaks**

Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Harper, Trance and everything else to do with Andromeda isn't mine, I'm not making any money; this is the result of a sugar high, brainless boredeom and a sudden desperate (yet inexplicable) urge to write in Harper's voice. It was written to come off the first, cure the second, and satisfy the third...yadda, yadda, yadda...  
  
Summary: Harper contemplates Trance in Med bay, with interesting results.  
  
A/N: This is the first fic I've written from Harper's view point, so I'm a little worried about not getting the tone/characterisation right, as my expertese run along the lines of Trance fics. However, I've done my best, so let me know if I did good! The rating is for Harper's dirty mind and some references. I thought it best to play it safe. Enjoy!

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Recently, I've found myself noticing how expressive Trance's lips are.

Really.

It's weird. They kinda move a lot when she thinks. I like that. It's uh… cute, I guess. Which is just not a word you usually use to describe Trance. At least, not any more.

But, anyway, her lips. They do a lot of expressing. Like sometimes, her lower lip pulls away and to the side of her top lip, and that's when she's kinda puzzled, or thinking through something. Other times, her top lip jerks up a little from her bottom lip, and that's when she's kinda thinking about smiling, but she probably wont. Then there's when the corner of her mouth droops down, and the other corner pulls up, so she's almost smiling, but it's not a smile, and that look can break your heart, I'm telling you, because it's just so sad. Like she knows something, like she sees something no one else can, and she knows what you're saying is so ironic, or so much more meaningful than you think it is. She's pulled that look on me a couple of times.

Right now, I'm thinking about Trance's lips again, sitting in the med bay. I cut my hand. Pretty dumb, really. I did it with a screw driver, jabbed myself and scored right across the back of it. I didn't think it was too bad, but Rom-doll marched me to med. deck, and Trance said it needed stitches. So Trance has finished stitching me up, and she's washing her hands. She's gonna put a bandage round my hand to keep the stitches safe.

She's back, picking up a roll of that cotton bandage stuff, tells me to hold out my hand, says it wont hurt. I know she's lying, I know she knows I know she's lying. Her lips are twitching. The corners are kinda trying to decide whether to turn up, while her bottom lip juts a little under her top, and she draws in the top lip, makes it thin. It's the look she gets when she's trying not to laugh. She's got that tricky look in her eyes.

Reluctantly, I hold out my hand, tell her to be nice to me.

She laughs, and her lips really do jerk up. A proper smile. I like it, no, I love it when Trance smiles. She never smiles as much these days.

Except that all this thinking about Trance's lips when actually in her presence is really not a great idea, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, thinking about Trance's lips kinda makes me look at them, and then stare, and then I can't look away, and then it starts making me think about what I'd like to do to her lips, and then I start to think about other parts of her body, and then… well, things kinda degenerate from there.

The other problem is that there is no hiding what you're thinking about from Trance.

Crap. I'm looking right at Trance's lips. She's talking but I'm not getting any of it. Man, oh man, she's gorgeous when she talks.

This is not healthy. This is not healthy at all. Okay, looking away. Looking _away_. Trying to look away. She's on to me. She knows I'm staring. I don't know whether she knows why. And I can't look away. I still can't look away. This is bad.

Brain to eyes, _why the hell aren't you moving_?

Alright, alright, I'm looking away. I'm looking away and I'm… past her chin, past her collar bone, looking down at her… Okay, no, that's not the best place to look either.

Look _away_, Seamus.

Alright, looking at the ceiling. The ceiling. Yeah. That's a nice, clean, safe place to look. No ridiculously attractive, sparkly alien babes to stare at inappropriately up there.

What are my eyes, magnetic?

Why are they being dragged away from the ceiling? Why are Trance's lips so attractive? Why is her chest so viewable from where I'm sitting? Why Lord? Why do you inflict such things on the pour, innocent Harper?

Oh, she's gonna punch me this time, for sure. If it was Rommie, I'd probably have a broken jaw by now.

Eyes, this is Seamus. Remember me? The guy you work for? Yeah. Me. Look away. _Look away_! This is one of the few moments you will get to spend with Trance today, and you are not gonna ruin it by staring at her breasts the entire time!

Jeez, I really am a sex crazed freak! _Now _what am I gonna do the next time Rommie calls me that?!

Ow! Crap! Trance has grabbed me by the hair and hauled my head up, then crouched down a little so we're on eye level.

"Seamus," she addresses me like a school kid, "don't do that."

"What?" I demand, in my complete determination to screw up anything that ever constituted as friendship between us, "it's a compliment!"

She hits me.

Right across the nose.

That's not gonna do anything for my good looks, I can tell you. I rock backwards, clutching my nose, moaning. I can feel blood. Trance is one hell of a lot stronger than she looks. Did she actually _break_ it?

She stands in front of me, those lips drawn together at one side, hands on hips. "You really disserved that, Harper."

"Mmmph," is all I can manage, through the blood and my fingers.

Trance sighs, fetches a tissue, and sits down next to me on the bed. "Show me your nose."

I shake my head. I really don't want her anywhere _near_ my nose right now.

She rolls her eyes, "Harper, take your hands away."

You don't disagree with Trance when she uses that kind of tone, so I take my hands away. Mercilessly, she pulls my head back and pinches my nose with the tissue, sending pain shooting through my sinuses.

"Arrgh!" I yelp. "I dink you broke it!" My voice is all messed up with the blood and the pain, and my 'th' comes out as a 'd'.

"It's not broken." She tells me, impatiently. "Now hold still!"

She keeps one hand on the back of my head, and holds the tissue closed around my nose. I instinctively hold my fingers under it, trying to stop the blood.

Aw man… It's all over my shirt. My _favourite_ shirt! And blood stains _never_ come out. Believe me. I learned the hard way.

Trance tells me to hold the tissue while she gets another. I do as I'm told, figuring I owe her that much. She grabs the box, takes a tissue and presses it under my nose, effectively stemming that attractive river of blood currently running down my philtrim.

"I'm sorry, Seamus," she sighs, "but sometimes you really do ask for it."

I groan. "I dow. I'md a disgusting sex crazed idiot wid no respect for du female species. Get it from Rommie all du time."

That makes her smile a little, her lips going all expressive on me again, as she shifts slightly to get into a better position for keeping her hand under my nose. She pulls her knees up under her and wrests her weight on her free hand. "I'll forgive you. Just keep your eyes this side of my collar bone, got it?"

"I'md not promising anyt'ing," I say. My voice is becoming a little clearer as the blood stops. "You know, this wouldn't happen nearly as much if one woman, just one, in this entire God damn universe, would spare ten minutes of her time to come have sex with me!"

Her bottom lip draws down, while the corners of her top lip go up, "ten minutes?"

"Five!" I offer, calmly hurling any respect Trance might once have had for me out of the window. "Any woman at all! I'd take a Persied! Hell, I'd take a Nightsider!"

She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. Her bottom lip draws up and turns outwards, like she's laughing without showing it. Then she pats my shoulder in this comforting way where I know she's just digging at me, "oh, it'll happen someday, Harper. Someday."

"Someday," I mutter, not entirely satisfied.

But I've looked up, and I'm looking at her lips again… and here we go again, with the staring and the inward moaning and Trance deciding to hit me again.

Except this time it's a little different, because she's staring at my lips just like I'm staring at hers, and… did it just get hotter in here?

I think I've stopped breathing, but I'm not really sure. I think you could pretty much drop a Magog swarm on top of me right now and I wouldn't notice. My nose has stopped hurting. I can't feel my toes. Aw jeez, I'm loosing it, I'm really loosing it… and Christ, she's gorgeous…

Then she kisses me.

_She's_ definitely kissing _me_. At least, that's what I'm thinking, until I feel myself grab her arms and pull her closer and I realise we're probably kissing each other.

Then I kick myself because I'm worrying about who's kissing who. _Who the hell cares?_

We're kissing, anyway, Trance and me. And it's not the neatest kiss you ever saw. In fact, it's kinda messy, because her leaning forward and then me grabbing her arms has forced her to shift her weight onto her other arm, making her take the tissue away from my nose, and I've long since stopped pinching it in favour of grabbing Trance, so now it's gushing again, and we're getting blood everywhere.

But I don't care. I really don't care. Trance is pressed against me, and her lips are crushed to mine and the hand she's leaning on is pressed to my rib cage and the other is holding my neck, and I'm holding onto her elbow and her shoulder and holding her and I really, really don't want to let go.

But then she catches my nose, and the blinding pain is enough to force me back to earth (so to speak). I yelp, pulling away to clutch the bleeding appendage. "Aww, jeez…"

Trance laughs, a little breathless, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them to my nose again. "Someday, Harper," she tells me, "someday, someone, just… not me. Not today."

"Not today," I agree, attempting a suggestive grin.

She's got my blood on her lips and smeared across her left cheek. While she keeps holding the tissues to my nose, I lean across and wipe the sticky rusty-red stuff from her skin with my sleeve.

Her lips quirk upwards, and I'm staring again.

_fin___


End file.
